Voices
by Lizwontcry
Summary: He thought he knew every facet of her voice, but it's not until tonight that he knows what it sounds like when she moans.


**A/N - This is my first attempt at writing for this fandom. I am not entirely through the series yet, I'm on season 5. So please no spoilers, thank you! This takes place in season 4 after Barlow's death but before everything turns to shitballs and Donna shows up. Thanks for reading, and I always appreciate reviews and feedback!**

* * *

He thought he knew every facet of her voice, but it's not until tonight that he knows what it sounds like when she moans.

It's not like Vic is very transparent about her feelings. Walt has always appreciated that about her. Even when she doesn't want to talk about it, he knows there is something she doesn't want to talk about. He used to find it unnerving, how well he thought he knew her. Even from when he first met Vic, when he was still so raw and angry and confused about Martha's death, he felt like he knew her. To Walt, Victoria is not a secret. She's not a puzzle. He does not have to solve her.

And yet, before tonight, he still thought he knew every facet of her voice. Every sound, every breath, every stutter, every sarcastic remark. He knows her casual conversation voice, her "I think I just broke open this case and I'm excited!" voice. Her piercing "just found a dead body and I'm freaking the hell out" scream. Her tone when she's reckless, when she's blindly calm, when she's nervous.

Walt's favorite articulation of her voice is the one she only reserves for him. It's that dangerous flirtatious murmur she delivers in their private moments together, when they're in the car on the way to a scene, or in the office when no one else is around. It makes him feel things he hasn't even thought about in decades. He's not blind; she's not the first younger woman who has harbored a crush on him. Once, a waitress at the Red Pony told him that he possesses this "mysterious, vulnerable cowboy thing" that intrigues people, especially younger women looking for someone to save them from their perceived meaningless existence. Henry had laughed for days when Walt told him what the waitress said.

But Vic is always saving herself, and Walt never had eyes for anyone but Martha-he barely noticed those girls who put themselves out there for him. Oh, and Vic was married... there was that small detail, too. But now, Martha's gone, Vic is divorced, and Walt's been having trouble denying the fact that Lizzie, and a couple dozen other people over the years, had been right about all along-he has feelings for Vic and they aren't going away. And... he's not sure he wants them to, anyway.

When Walt comes back to work after his voluntary leave of absence in the wake of Barlow's death, he notices something is missing between him and Vic. It's like they lost all their momentum; he felt like whatever train was coming for the two of them before he left would take them on board, but now they have to start from the beginning. It doesn't help that Walt can sense the spark between Eamonn and Vic. That's definitely not the reason he let Eamonn go. At least that's what he tries to tell himself.

Maybe it's all for the best, anyway. It was an idea that was obviously better in theory; having an affair with his younger deputy is hardly something he wants to be judged for among the constituents of Absaroka County. But on the other hand... sometimes he feels like if he doesn't touch Vic's bare skin soon, he'll lose his damn mind. It's not even just physical; he admires the way she connects with people, her motivation and drive to be the best at her job, her _passion._ And after everything she's been through, to stay so strong through it all... Walt respects her bravery, and is constantly surprised by what she does next.

Now it's a few weeks later, and Walt's dealing with the usual menagerie of Wyoming drama. It's almost midnight, and he's still catching up on the mountains of missed paperwork that was not done in his absence. His eyes are on the brink of closing from boredom when there's a knock at the door. He doesn't make a move for the pistol hidden in the drawer of his desk, because like he knows her voice, he also knows Vic's knocks.

"Come in, Vic," he says, and she does. She looks as tired as he feels, but somehow her youth camouflages it better. There's a weary smile on her face that also seems kind of... mischievous? Walt can't help it; he has to know how to read a person's body language to do this job. He notices she's not wearing her uniform, which is unfortunate for him since everything she wears is form fitting in a way that's impossible not to notice. In his quieter moments, when everything is completely still and nobody is trying to get a hold of him or accuse him of anything, he imagines slowly peeling those tight clothes off and seeing what's underneath. The thought certainly crossed him mind that night in the motel in Arizona, but of course, they were interrupted. Damn it.

When Vic sits down at his desk, Walt states the obvious. "You're here late. I thought everyone had cleared out a long time ago."

"Yeah, I left, but I came back," she says. She doesn't offer any more information.

"Okay," Walt replies. "Is there any particular reason why?"

Vic considers this question before answering. "No, actually, now that I think about it."

Walt waits for her to finish this thought, if in fact she plans to do so.

"I was trying to go to sleep since we have so much to do tomorrow... you know, there's always something to do. And then I got to thinking about something that comes up a lot for me lately. A lot. I've been thinking about it a lot."

"I see. And what's that, Vic?"

Vic sighs. "You know, I get it. We've both been through a lot of shit. And sometimes it's hard to talk about. When I first moved here from Philly and Sean was traveling all the time and none of my friends back home would answer the phone, I was alone. And Walt, it sucks to be alone."

"Vic, I-"

"And yet, after the whole Barlow thing happened, you were alone. I called you. I called you seven times and you never called back. Why didn't you reach out, Walt? You don't... have to be alone. I am always here."

Walt thinks he's starting to get the point, but he doesn't want to be a jackass and misinterpret what Vic is trying to express to him.

"I know you're here, Vic. But I was going through something. It wasn't something I wanted to discuss."

Vic nods. She starts picking at a seam in her jeans that's slowly coming apart. Walt knows she's not finished, so he waits. He's a patient man. Or he can be for her.

"I missed your voice," she finally says, and looks him in the eye. "I missed your voice, and I wanted to be there for you, and I thought-"

And she's quiet again. Walt sighs. This is going to be a long night if she can't finish her sentences.

"Did you know that day... that day everything went down with Barlow, before all that, I came to your house with some Rainier. I checked myself in the mirror a hundred times before I knocked on the door. I rehearsed what I was going to say. I was a mess, but I was a happy mess because I thought..."

There she goes with the thoughts again. Walt gets up from behind his desk and sits in the empty chair next to Vic. He slides the chair over so he's closer to her, and before he even knows what he's doing, takes her hand in his. She looks at him and in one second, that mischievous smile is back. Maybe she's more mysterious than he thinks. Maybe there's things yet to discover about Vic. He wants to discover it all.

"What did you think?" Walt asks. He wants to know. Hell, he _needs_ to know.

"I thought... I think you want to know what it's like to kiss me." She doesn't look away as she says this. He doesn't either.

"I think you want to know what it's like to kiss me but you're scared. Of what happens next. Of corrupting me or something. Scared of everyone finding out, scared of the future, scared of crossing a line. Well, Walt, I've been thinking about it, and it's all bullshit."

"Um, Vic, I disagree... all of those things matter. We can't be reckless; we can't afford it. There's so many things that can go wrong-"

Vic exhales and Walt stops talking. She's right. It's all bullshit. What the hell.

Vic senses the change in Walt's thoughts. Maybe she knows him as well as he thinks he knows her. Maybe not. Whatever the case, she gets up from her chair and travels to his chair. Her grin is sexy and dangerous and Walt knows this is going to end badly, but god, he wants this; he's iwanted/i it.

She kneels on the floor and grins up at him. She slowly starts to unzip his pants. "If you tell me to leave right now, I will. Tell me you don't want this and I'll never bring it up again. Tell me you don't want this."

Walt wants it. Of course he wants it. But he's so terrified he's going to break her heart and ruin this partnership that's been working so well for them. She's the best deputy he's ever had. And right now, he doesn't care how fucking stupid it is, he needs Vic in a way that's tangible and real. So he says, "Don't leave. Don't ever leave."

That's all she needs to hear. Vic says, "good," and takes his pants off. Well, there's no going back now.

There's many possibilities as to where they can consummate this bad idea-the chair that Vic is thinking about straddling him in, the desk in which they could throw everything off of, or... the dirty cot behind the bars of the cell. Yes, that'll do. Vic grabs Walt's hand and he follows her to the cell, not caring about anything than what's about to happen.

And then he kisses her, and it finally begins.

* * *

Vic knows it's a bad idea to fall for her boss. She's done it before and look how that turned out. But with Walt, she never even had a chance. Somehow, the air around her seems different if Walt is not nearby. His presence to her is so big and so important, she _feels_ it when he's gone. What is that about, exactly? Nothing she does or tries to do ever makes that feeling go away. And she's become addicted to the sensation, no matter how much it hurts. And god, it hurts, it hurts so bad that it almost feels good. She knows that doesn't make sense, but at this point, she doesn't even try to fight it anymore.

But now… something is happening. Everything is changing. It's a bad idea; Vic is impulsive and frequently makes bad decisions and this will definitely go down as one of them. But she wants Walt so bad. It's not just that he's a handsome cowboy with a swagger that's always turned her on, although that's obviously part of it. It's the way he knows how to take charge of a situation, the way he knows how to talk to people to get the right information, the way Vic can almost see inside his head when he's thinking his way through a problem. And the way he knows her has always made her nervous. He has her number and now he's going to call it.

It all became too much. Vic had been sitting at home feeling sorry for herself, and then suddenly she wasn't. So she came back to the office, knowing that Ruby and Ferg were probably sound asleep at midnight, and Walt was there. He's there, strong and solid and troubled, and she needs him. Okay? She ineeds/i him. And now she knows he needs her, too. Maybe in a different way, and maybe not as bad, but whatever. Right now he's kissing her and none of it matters. Time, space, the rotation of the earth, nothing. He's her drug and she's addicted.

The first kiss. Well, it's a pretty damn good introduction. His hands are familiarizing themselves with her body, and his mouth is warm and curious, and it's not exactly tender or meaningful. It's hot and rough and fucking finally.

Vic's imagined this moment an untold number of times, but she's never exactly known how it will all play out. She's seen Walt half-naked it seems like a lot, and she's always liked what she witnessed. However, she's wondered about the age difference. Does he have the stamina to keep up with her? According to her calculations, he hasn't been with anyone since, well, his wife died. As it turns out, that is apparently a motivating factor in their current rendezvous, as he's kissing and touching her with the ferocity of someone who hasn't kissed or touched a woman in years. Vic can dig it.

"I missed your voice," Vic whispers into Walt's ear at some point, because she wants him to know. She wants him to know that she misses him when he's gone, that she understands when he needs a break, but that he's not allowed to leave her out of the loop. That's not how this thing works.

This seems to have some sort of affect on him, because his kisses get more aggressive, and he pushes her down on the cot, not giving her much room to take control. That's okay for now, but Vic will get her revenge later, and she already can't wait for that.

Walt peels her shirt off, and nods appreciatively at her lack of a bra. His hands melt into her skin, and every part of her is on fire. Touching, tasking, licking, sucking-it happens all at once, but in slow motion, too. Vic wants to live inside this moment, because as soon as it ends, who knows what's going to happen?

The foreplay is amazing but Vic is ready for the main course, and Walt doesn't argue when she guides him inside of her. Oh, yeah. This is what she's been waiting for. Maybe it's his many years of experience, but he knows what he's doing, so much more than anyone else she's been with. He pushes her to the brink over and over, just to pull her back and start all over again. With every moan that leaves her lips, it seems to recharge him; encourage him, and it just… keeps… going.

When it's over—and it's not over quickly—they lay side by side, trying to digest everything that just happened.

"Next time, maybe we can take it slower and not try to kill each other," Vic says. She waits for Walt to say "There won't be a next time," or "Maybe we should talk about it," or nothing at all, which is his favorite way of communicating with her when she says something so personal.

"Yeah. That'd be good," he says, and she notes that it sounds like he's trying to catch his breath, which she likes. Vic makes him breathless. That's something she could get used to.

They both get up and get dressed. Perhaps they can cuddle next time, but for now, they're still in the Sheriff's office on a dirty cot that's used for locked up criminals.

Vic wants everything all at once. She wants Walt to make promises she knows he probably can't keep. Even though this been a long time coming, it doesn't mean that Walt is going to turn his life inside out for her. He's not going to call Ferg and Ruby in and announce that they are both invited to the wedding. Vic knows that. She's not naive.

"Well, I'm going to head home. Long day tomorrow," Vic says. Walt nods, and doesn't say a damn thing as she finds her keys and heads to the door. Her heart is not breaking. Of course she expected something like this to happen. It was a bad idea from the beginning. Damn it, she has to stop being so impulsive all the time, it's only—

"Hey, Vic," Walt says when she gets to the door.

"Yeah?"

"Next time we're going to go slow, and pace ourselves."

"Oh, yeah?" Vic's heart is beating faster than is probably safe. "Why is that?" She can't help herself.

"Because. I want to savor it. I want to take my time. I want to learn every… inch… of you."

He reaches for her, and this kiss is different. It's full of something she doesn't want to call a promise. That would be dangerous. But she gets swept up in it anyway, and Vic now knows this night is only the beginning. Vic knows Walt isn't going to be a fairy tale Prince Charming, but she's always preferred cowboys, anyway.


End file.
